


I Know Who I Am

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Muzzled Keith, Protective Hunk (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Racism, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24859708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Earth is slowly beginning to rebuild following three long years of Galra enslavement and one of the first things to go back up is a local shopping mall. Keith, Lance and Hunk venture there in search of a present for Shiro, but it isn’t a present that Keith ultimately finds.It’s a group of racist, violent humans who hate the Galra and want nothing more than to see them suffer as they once did.And Keith is the present they didn't expect but now that they've got him... he’s just what they were looking for.
Relationships: Hunk & Keith & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 244
Kudos: 724





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** set between seasons seven and eight  
>  **Warning notes:** depictions of violence and torture, racism

Keith resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as Lance and Hunk’s debate grew louder and more animated behind him as he steered the hovercraft the Garrison had loaned them into a parking space at the recently semi-renovated mall.

“—completely whitewashed me!” Hunk exclaimed. “Does this,” he shoved his hand in front of Keith’s face, who had fortunately already applied the break, and waved it, “look white to you?”

Hunk didn’t seem to be waiting for a response as he turned back to Lance, neither of them apparently caring they’d reached their destination despite it being all they could talk about all morning and Keith gave a small, amused shake of his head.

He didn’t get the big deal about the weird cartoon that had been made about Voltron. He knew Lance’s niece and nephew really liked it, Pidge strangely did (even though they’d made her character a boy and why, exactly?) but otherwise all it seemed to do was cause arguments over how badly they had been characterized.

And as if summoned Lance started on his favorite tirade outside of the fact his character also had a mullet.

“They have Allura paired with Keith!  _ Keith!  _ Like, what the cheese? And you!” A hard finger poked into Keith’s back. “Don’t you be getting any ideas—”

“I don’t want to date Allura,” Keith sighed, for probably the hundredth time but like every time before it seemed Lance had selective hearing.

“—because— wait, what?”

Keith pivoted in his seat, eyes wide.

Had Lance  _ finally _ heard that?

“I don’t want to date Allura?” Keith repeated, almost like a question.

Lance’s mouth dropped. “You don’t?” His eyes narrowed. “Why? Are you saying she’s not good enough?”

Keith gaped. What? 

“That’s,” he shook his head. “That’s not—

“I don’t know,” Hunk rubbed his chin, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I think Allura might like older men. And well, Keith has a few years on you now.”

“Hunk,” Lance moaned, “why would you say that? You’re supposed to back me up! But,” his expression fell, “do your really think—?”

“Out,” Keith hit the switch to open all the doors, more than done.

No one moved.

Keith gave in and pinched his nose, now understanding why Shiro was so drawn to it.

“Lance,” he met the other boy’s eyes, “One; I am not interested now or ever in dating Allura. There’s nothing wrong with her; I’m just not interested. Two; everyone compared to Allura is young. Three; we are here to go shopping and we only have two hours and if you want to spend it inside the hovercraft—”

Lance was outside in a blink, hopping on the balls of his feet with a, “Come on Keith, you’re so slow.”

Keith pinched his nose again.

Why did he feel like the responsible adult here?

“Okay,” Lance took the lead as everyone got out of the hovercraft, “our priority is finding a birthday gift for Shiro. He’s going to be seven so we want to make sure it’s age-appropriate.”

Keith just shook his head, smile giving him away. 

Poor Shiro. He was going to end up with probably some Voltron themed action figure although, honestly, Keith had a feeling he’d be ecstatic by that anyways.

“And,” Lance looked pained at the next part, “we were asked to keep a low profile so…” his gaze cut to Keith. “I know how much you love the attention but do try to keep it on the down low, kay?”

“I’ll try,” Keith deadpanned and Lance grinned.

It shouldn’t be too difficult, honestly. The Galaxy Garrison had been releasing press briefings that did include photos of them but they’d all been in full Paladin armor, not casual clothes, and no one would be looking twice at a group of teens — young adults, Keith amended, as he was almost twenty-one now and Hunk nineteen and Lance eighteen — in a mall. It’s not like there were enemies hunting them here but unless they wanted to be a part of a media circus and then never be allowed off base again until they departed for space in a few weeks, this was for the best.

“Let’s split up, see what we find?” Lance suggested. “Meet at the food court in an hour and compare notes?”

“Sure,” Keith agreed. He’d never been one for shopping in groups anyway and this would let him go at his own pace, instead of the energetic one that had Lance nearly bouncing. 

“Okay, break!” Lance cheered. “Whoever finds the best present wins!”

And he took off at a sprint for the mall entrance.

Hunk and Keith looked at one another.

And then Hunk broke into a loping jog after Lance.

Keith shook his head and walked like a normal person.

The air conditioning was the first thing that hit, almost too cold after Arizona’s dry heat outside, and Keith was glad he’d worn a jacket.

He still missed his regular one, lost when the castle had blown up as it hadn’t been a priority for him to grab even though it had been the first gift Shiro had ever gotten him. The memory was what made it important though.

And…

Keith’s eyes lit up.

A jacket. That’s what he could get for Shiro.

He knew Shiro was having trouble with his new arm — the base on his shoulder (and God, he hated that they’d had to remove even  _ more  _ of Shiro’s arm to install the new arm, the original port and scar tissue too damaged) was a bit large to maneuver through a sleeve and while they’d fixed some regular shirts for him he didn’t have any jacket that properly fit. Keith wasn’t the best with a needle and thread but he wasn’t bad and if he could find a jacket and some sewing supplies to adjust it…

Unfortunately, Keith realized the mall wasn’t exactly laid out for easy perusal.

It was less shops and more of individual traders taking up old stalls, mostly humans but a few aliens scattered thereabouts and hawking wares from their own planets. It was rustic and hard to navigate but it made Keith smile because it was another sign of how  _ strong  _ Earth was, already rebounding after only a month post-Galra invasion.

Most shops were accepting items of trade, which made sense as money had little value at the moment, and it was interesting to listen to people haggling. Chocolate and candy, Keith noted, seemed to be worth quite a bit.

He stepped into a shop that had several mannequins in human-style clothes on display, a few other customers browsing racks and tables.

He had just begun to leaf through an odd mix of sweaters and jackets when he could feel someone coming up behind him, steps soft but hurried.

An attack?

He forced himself not to go for his luxite blade, strapped at his waist and hidden beneath his jacket, instead turning to face the person.

It was a child.

A little human boy, eyes and mouth wide as he stared up at Keith, that morphed into a loud squeal and grin that drew nearly every eye in the shop. 

Keith felt his neck flush at the sudden attention.

“Um, can I… help you?” he asked the child, who was still staring up at him. 

“You’re  _ him,”  _ the child whispered, voice still loud but at least at a normal level. “From the cartoon.”

Keith’s eyes widened.

Oh.

He had not expected that.

A woman hurried over, apology written all over her face. “I’m so sorry, sir. I took my eye of him for just one moment…” She turned to the boy. “Joshua, you’re bothering—”

“He’s fine,” Keith surprised himself by interrupting, but… but he knew how it felt to be shut down, even with the best intentions behind it. He caught the woman’s eye. “It’s no bother.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, if you’re sure…” She looked back to her son. “Two minutes, Joshua, and then we have to go.”

Joshua gave a solemn nod before turning all of his attention back to Keith, who was slowly sinking down on one knee to avoid looming over the kid although that was about all he knew to do as he really didn’t interact with kids, always leaving that part if it came up to Lance and Hunk and Shiro.

“You are him, right?” he asked, clutching a small backpack in his hands. “Keith? From Voltron?”

“Yes,” Keith said simply, although quietly, as he didn’t want to draw any more attention and he could still feel the shopkeeper’s eyes on him from behind the front counter.

“Cool,” the kid breathed. “Can…?” he set his backpack down and opened it, clearly digging for something. He emerged with a crayon and a coloring book that had clearly seen better days but a few sheets were still intact. “Can I…?” he was suddenly shy, foot scuffing on the floor behind him.

“Of course,” Keith found that his smile wasn’t forced at all even though he’d always hated the concept of autographs and had been relieved he’d missed out on the horrific Voltron Show idea. “Joshua, right?”

“Yeah. H-here,” and the items were thrust into his hands.

Keith accepted the crayon — red — and coloring book, and flipped it open to the blank back cover to write a message. 

What… exactly did he write to a kid?

A smile crossed his face then.

He knew.

_ Joshua,  _ he wrote neatly,  _ always believe in yourself. Never give up. And reach for the stars. Keith, Paladin of Voltron.  _

The boy took it back in shaking hands. “Th-thank you, Mr. Keith.”

“Just Keith,” Keith smiled. 

He was unprepared for the sudden arms thrown about his middle. “Thank you, Keith, for saving me and my mommy and daddy,” Joshua whispered. 

Keith blamed the sudden stinging in his eyes on the dust floating about the mall. 

Joshua’s mother called him then and Keith got one more tight squeeze and then the boy was picking up his backpack and heading for his mom at the entrance to the store. 

Then they were gone.

As Keith stood from his crouch he realized it was just him and the shopkeeper in the store now.

And the shopkeeper’s eyes were boring holes into him.

“You’re him?” she asked, voice hard. “The Black Paladin? The,” her eyes narrowed, “Galran?”

Keith tried to keep his expression even.

He knew the Garrison had mentioned his heritage in their releases as they were trying to show a narrative of how not  _ all  _ Galrans were bad given that the Garrison was working prominently alongside the Blades of Marmora and, despite Sendak’s invasion, the Galra at the moment were not the enemy.

But Keith also knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Earth had been slave to Galra rule for nearly three years and that history was hard to forget.

It was yet another reason to go under the radar at the mall.

But Keith wasn’t a liar and the only way to prove to people that Galrans were not inherently evil was to show them. 

And so…

“Yes,” Keith said, straightening. “I’m half-human and half-Gal—”

“Your kind are not welcome here,” the woman cut him off.

Keith spread his hands. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m just shop—”

“All you know is trouble,” she spat, hands shaking. Keith couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear or maybe both and he fought not to wince as the words were too similar to ones he’d heard throughout his time in the system. “You Galrans… you… you  _ savages.”  _

Keith fought not to bristle.

It wasn’t her fault, he told himself. She’d been through something horrible and she was just looking for something to take her anger out on. 

It was okay.

It wasn’t personal. 

Not really.

“Okay,” he held up his hands. “I’m leaving your shop.”

She shook her head. “No. You leave this mall. This, this  _ planet.  _ You’re not— Oh. Oh, thank God,” she was looking past him. “Security! Security, in here!”

Keith turned to the shop entrance as two human men stepped forward, both wearing kevlar vests, heavy combat boots, and suspicious expressions aimed at Keith.

A cold shiver went down his spine even though he had nothing to be scared of. He was a customer, he was allowed to be here, and he wasn’t causing any trouble.

Still...

“How can we help, ma’am?” one of them asked.

“I want this Galran—”

“Galran?” interrupted the heavier set man, tone dark.

And that apparently was going to be that.

“Look, I’m leaving, okay?” Keith swung his gaze between both parties. 

One of the men stepped forward and Keith forcibly kept his hands at his sides, not reaching for his knife.

It was just a human.

Just a security guard.

Not a threat.

He couldn’t make himself one.

Let them see that he really did mean no trouble.

“How about,” and a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, “we escort you out?”

The hand tightened, almost bruisingly so, as if daring him to say something.

Keith had dealt with more than his share of bullies, of abusive foster parents, of adults who thought they knew best.

He could deal with this one too.

He wasn’t a kid anymore, wasn’t as reckless as he had once been.

Calm.

Patience.

Everything was going to be fine.

“Fine,” Keith said, proud when the word lacked the bite he knew it would have had before. “Let’s go.”

And he told himself he allowed the man to keep his hand on his shoulder, that even though he was following the second guard he wasn’t being led somewhere.

This was his decision.

They walked towards the mall’s front entrance and Keith kept his gaze straight ahead, not sure if he wanted to spot Lance and Hunk or not because then they would make a scene and that was the last thing he wanted. He’d just let the guards escort him out, shoot Hunk and Lance a text and then wait in the hovercraft. It wasn’t ideal and Keith hated it but this venture wasn’t for him, it was for Shiro, and he wasn’t going to ruin it. 

They reached the front doors and the men walked him through them, into the dry Arizona heat and a shiver went down Keith’s back at the temperature change.

Although was it only the temperature?

No.

He shoved that prickle away. 

It was nothing. These were just humans, just scared. 

And they were… escorting him to the parking lot? 

Keith didn’t resist, trying to show them that he wasn’t going to do anything to them, to prove that Galra weren’t all bad. 

They walked into the lines of cars and hovercrafts and before Keith could open his mouth to tell them they were in the wrong section the man in front paused in the cool shade of a large bus-like vehicle. 

He turned around.

Something dangerous was on his face.

And the gun in his hands even moreso.

Keith’s eyes widened.

Instinct took over as his hand reached for his knife, as he threw his shoulder and weight to dislodge the other man’s grip, even as he knew he couldn’t, couldn’t hurt these men, these  _ humans. _

He spun sideways, hand on the blade handle, to at least create distance, figure out a solution, something that didn’t end in bloodsh—

Something  _ crashed  _ against the back of his head, sending him stumbling to the ground, ears ringing and vision going dark on the edges.

Ad the last thing he saw was a heavy boot aimed for his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commission fic for ninjawrites (7k). As I told my early release readers, I think this fic in particular is incredibly relevant right now (it was written back in January so not related to the current situation but I think that makes it even more powerful). And maybe, hopefully, it will be a bit of an eye opener on racism and hate for those who need it :) I also hope you enjoy it too, especially my few Keith whump and angst fans :)
> 
> Please remember, fanfiction is meant to be engaged with. _**Please, please, please**_ don’t just be a page click or a kudo or a bookmark. Instead be an engaged, appreciative reader and leave a comment to show said appreciation and give the author a little love for sharing their work. Share a favorite scene, line of dialogue, comment about the writing style, a character, an observation, a guess for future chapters…Thank you so much to those who do. Your support means a lot ♥
> 
> Edit: Since I'm apparently "neurotic" for asking readers to engage in the fanfic by leaving a comment and thus dictate the update schedule for a fic of 1-3 weeks, this fic will be going to the "when Icy feels capable of updating schedule" instead (approximately 3-5 weeks unless I'm feeling particularly not depressed and disheartened some week and can convince myself to post sooner) and I'll see everyone then :)
> 
> 💥 **(Like my works? Want to read even MORE? Visit my[Tumblr, icypantherwrites](https://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com) for details.)💥**  
> 


	2. Two

Keith woke to someone pulling his hair and hot breath on his face, dully wondering if his wolf had gotten his claws caught again.

“I think he’s waking up,” the breath wafted more and Keith gagged at the fishy scent and his eyes flew open as his wolf most definitely _did not talk_ and _this was not right._

And then he gagged more as he realized something was jammed into his mouth and pressing painfully on his nose and chin and his eyes were watering at both the sensation and the smell and the harsh jerk on his hair, dragging his face upwards.

Even through tears the four human men looming over him, all dressed in kevlar and combat gear, and the smirks and sneers and _hate_ on their faces were unmistakable.

So too was the fact he was restrained; ropes cutting into bare arms yanked backwards — they’d removed his jacket — and across his chest and legs, trussing him up like a turkey.

Keith inwardly cursed both them and himself.

He should have listened to his instincts.

These men…

They were _dangerous._

And he…

He was trapped.

“So, Galran,” the hand twisted in his hair and the man it belonged to leaned down, a heavy burn covering the right side of his face, “what should we do to you?”

“I say we break all of his fingers,” said the security guard that had pulled the gun.

“I vote we break _all_ of him,” said the one who had struck him across the head, smacking a metal baton into his opposite hand.

“How about we burn him?” the man holding his hair said. Dark green eyes bored into Keith’s. “See how you like it, Galra scum.”

Keith narrowed his eyes.

He would not be frightened.

He refused.

Even though…

“Well I think,” the fourth guard spoke, “that it’s important we collar our Galran mutt. It’ll go well with his muzzle, don’t you think?”

Muzzle?

And Keith realized it wasn’t just a gag as he’d thought.

They’d…

Like, like a _dog,_ they’d...

The wires pressing into his flesh and metal bit forced between his teeth made a lot more sense. 

“Ooh, I think you made him angry,” one of the men laughed as Keith jerked his head to the side, trying to get a glimpse past the men crowded around him to see where he was, what he could use to escape because there _had_ to be something, he had to get out of here, he had to—

“I think he’s scared,” another one said, before he laughed, something dark and cruel in that sound. “Good.”

“Are you scared, Galran?” Keith’s head was jerked in a different direction.

He came face to face with a metal chain collar, links loose but made for choking disobedient dogs. 

He tried to twist away as the hand removed itself from his hair, to do _something,_ but the collar was shoved over his head and Keith _choked_ as the man yanked on the lead, sending metal links digging into his flesh even as he fell over, unable to brace himself with his hands behind his back.

“Come on,” the man _pulled_ and Keith gagged as he was dragged forward a few inches, vision going black on the edges. 

He couldn’t breathe.

He was going to…

Going to…

Rough fingers dug between his flesh and the embedded links and Keith gasped as _air_ assaulted his lungs, choking on it around the metal bit of the muzzle. 

“Careful!” he heard one of the men snap above his strangled inhalations, “we don’t want to kill him yet!”

Yet.

Yet.

Yet.

The word circled in his mind.

They were going to kill him.

They were going to torture him and kill him because he was a Galran.

He’d never done anything to these men.

And they were going to…

His hair was grabbed and his head lifted up again.

Something was hovering in front of his eyes and he struggled to bring it into focus.

His eyes widened.

His knife.

They had his luxite blade.

The tip landed on his cheek, right over his scar.

“Now,” the man whispered, “let’s see what color Galrans bleed.”

xxx

“Where is he?” Lance paced around the table he and Hunk had commandeered in the small food court. “He’s almost ten minutes late! He’s supposed to be the adult! The responsible one! He should know how to tell time! Or at least answer his phone! How many text messages have I sent now? Seriously?”

“Lance, stop,” Hunk moaned, head facedown against his arm. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Lance came to an abrupt halt with a quiet, “oops, sorry.”

He couldn’t sit down though. 

He was too jittery.

This wasn’t like Keith. 

If he was running late, fine, but there was no reason for him not to respond to messages. It’s not like he was haggling anyway as Hunk had all of their trade items everyone had donated to the cause and honestly, Keith was a horrible haggler so he’d better not be attempting to do so with something of his own because he was going to be ripped off big time.

He wondered if that’s what was giving him this weird feeling of _wrong_ that kept niggling at him: Keith’s awful shopping skills. But no.

That wasn’t it.

What was it?

Even trying to reassure himself that this was a human space mall, no bad guys, no bounty posters, not even Varkon, and so what kind of trouble could Keith really get into? He was the one who was trying out of them all to keep a low profile as while he’d taken back the leadership role of Voltron Lance knew he had never liked the attention that came with it. The last thing Keith would be doing was making a scene.

So where was he?

“Let’s give him five more minutes,” Hunk said. “Then we’ll go look for him. Not like there’s too many places he could get to, right?”

“Right,” Lance echoed.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh in place of pacing.

Not even a minute later Hunk was sending his chair backwards with a _screech_ that had him apologizing as several aliens looked in their direction with winces and glares.

“Okay, something is wrong,” Hunk said and Lance let out a breath.

 _Gracias a Dios._ It wasn’t just him being impatient or paranoid. Hunk felt it too.

But then that meant…

Keith was in trouble.

“Can you track his phone?” Lance asked. That would be the easiest thing, right? Hit a couple buttons, find Keith, and then go yell at him for making him worry about him.

“Just give me a second,” Hunk was already typing away on his phone.

A moment later though he shook his head, expression drawn. “His phone isn’t responding.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s either out of battery or… or it’s turned off.”

And they both knew the phones, designed by Pidge, Hunk and Coran, lasted _weeks_ without a recharge. And Keith would never turn his phone off; silent mode, maybe, if they were sending too many messages in a group thread but even if that were the case it would still be receiving a signal.

Which meant…

His phone was off.

And Keith most definitely would not have been the one to do so.

Lance felt a shiver go down his spine.

Had someone… attacked Keith? Here, on Earth? In a _mall?_ And had he… _lost?_ That didn’t seem likely but…

But something was _wrong._

“We’re too far out to reach the Garrison,” Hunk said, voice shaky. Cell towers didn’t exist right now and their own phones only worked within a couple mile radius from one another with Earth’s signals. The Garrison was almost thirty out. “We could go back—”

“No,” Lance shook his head.

Something told him they didn’t have time.

Keith didn’t have time.

 _Dios._ What was going on?

“He, he has to be here,” Lance waved a hand at the mall. “Like you said, not too many places, right? We can split up—” 

“No,” Hunk interrupted that time. “No splitting up. We don’t know what happened and… and…”

And they didn’t know if they were next.

They didn’t think they’d had enemies on Earth, but…

But...

“Okay,” Lance agreed, honestly not keen on the whole splitting up thing either. “Someone has to have seen him. Let’s go show his picture around, piece this together. Maybe… maybe it’s nothing?”

Even as he said though Lance knew that wasn’t right. 

He could feel it. 

Keith was in trouble.

They skipped the food court, heading up the stairs to the main shopping level, stopping at every peddler, every stall, every shop, showing a photo of Keith, Kosmo and Pidge that Lance had snapped during a game of Monsters and Mana they were playing in a Garrison board room.

Every answer was the same.

No.

Had…

Had Keith even made it into the mall? 

Lance had run ahead and Hunk had said, face paling, that he’d gone after him and Keith had been walking and…

 _Dios,_ had Keith been missing for over an hour?

They’d finish this hallway of shops, Lance decided, as they were nearly done. Then they’d go outside and see if maybe somehow Keith was just hiding out in the hovercraft, taking a nap or something and not hearing his phone go off.

Unlikely, but he could hope.

They entered the second to last store, a clothing shop, and Lance beelined for the counter where a woman was in the process of reticking some items.

“Excuse me,” Lance knew his smile didn’t reach his eyes, not anymore, but he tried anyway.

The woman looked up, crows feet etched in her skin but her smile was warm. “How can I help you, hun?” she asked. “Looking for something in particular?”

“We’re looking for our friend, actually,” Lance turned his phone around to show her. “He’s—”

He broke off as the woman let out a soft gasp, her gaze darting from the phone to Lance and then Hunk.

That was new.

Hope bloomed in Lance’s stomach.

“Have you—?”

“You’re friends with that _Galran_?” she said the last word as though it was rancid. 

Lance knew Earth had gone through a lot under Galra rule. He knew there was no lost love for Galrans. But… this _hate._

Had… had something happened to Keith because he was _Galran?_

 _Dios._ That was…

That was a hate crime. 

“Yes,” Hunk stepped up to the counter, voice unwavering. “Keith is our friend.”

She looked aghast.

“It sounds like you’ve seen him,” Lance said, not willing to waste any more time. “Where did he go?”

She sniffed, turning away from them. “I told him we don’t serve his kind here and security took him away, I imagine out of mall.”

That…

That could explain it.

Keith’s phone could have been confiscated by security and he was staying outside of the mall to avoid any further confrontation and was at the hovercraft.

Lance felt faint with relief.

That _had_ to be what had happened. 

Everything was going to be okay.

Except…

Except one thing was not.

“Did you know,” Lance addressed the shopkeeper, “that Keith is a Paladin of Voltron?”

She twitched.

She didn’t look at him, nor did she seem surprised.

“We are too,” Lance told her and she twitched again. “And Keith is our leader.”

She finally looked at him, but there was nothing but disgust etched into her face. “You would let one of _them_ lead you?”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Galrans are not a ‘them.’ This isn’t an us versus them. Galrans. Humans. Alteans and Balmerans and all the other aliens. We’re all on the same side, ma’am,” his voice was shaking. Rage. Frustration. 

_Fear._

How could she not see?

How many were like her?

Keith, the Blade of Marmora, everyone was fighting to _protect_ and _save_ Earth, all the other people in the universe. 

She snorted. “You are a fool. He’ll turn on you, mark my words. His kind know nothing but violence and war. I’ve seen it, _boy,”_ she spat his age at him as though age meant anything anymore. “Galrans are savage, disgusting creatures. He may wear the face of a human but he will _never_ be one of us. And best you learn that before you wind up _dead.”_

Lance didn’t even know what to say.

His hands were shaking now too.

“You’re wrong,” Hunk said quietly, but words no less strong for it and the woman only gave a ‘hmph,’ clearly done.

Lance was done too. 

Hunk’s hand landed on Lance’s shoulder. “Come on, _hermano,_ let’s… let’s go. Keith is waiting for us.”

Lance swallowed thickly before he gave a short jerk of his head. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Keith was waiting.

And it was time they all went home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **_Please_ don’t just read and run (or just leave a kudo >>)! Leave a comment! Thank you!**
> 
> 💥 **(Like my works? Want to read even MORE? Visit my[Tumblr, icypantherwrites](https://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com)!)💥**  
> 


	3. Three

Red.

That was the answer to their question, at least when it came to Keith.

Half-human Galrans bled red.

And…

And he’d bled a lot.

He could feel it.

He was cold. His thoughts were hazy, his vision fuzzy and crowded with black dots.

It didn’t seem real.

It was.

And the men wouldn’t let him forget.

They pulled on his collar, choking him over and over but never yet to the point he passed out. They had made the chains break flesh though and Keith could feel the steady, sticky, hot blood squelch beneath the links.

They twisted his hair as much as they’d twisted his fingers, trapped and defenseless where they were bound behind him.

He was glad he couldn’t see them.

He had been able to see where he was though.

A pet shop.

It had clearly once been a part of the mall but seemed to be in an unused wing and while the men had kept him gagged with the muzzle that had never been meant for a human face, the wires drawing blood on his chin and lower cheeks where they’d been forced around his jaw, to keep his screams quiet they hadn’t seemed too concerned with their own loud jeers and laughter.

Keith kept praying that somehow, some way, Lance and Hunk found him.

Found him before…

Another garbled scream he didn’t want to make tore out of his throat as something — his knife, he was sure it was his knife — plunged into the back of his leg and even had he the strength to kick out someone was sitting on his feet and an ever present hand was either in his hair or on the leash holding the collar and keeping his head either pinned down or jerked up.

He wondered when they would tire of the sound of his screams.

He wondered how he was going to get out of this.

He…

He didn’t know.

The men had yet to release any of his limbs and even with a broken, bleeding hand Keith was more than prepared to punch it straight into someone’s face, pain be damned, and fight his way out.

But his limbs were bound and no matter how hard he strained and pulled there was no give and now the blood loss was starting to make his limbs even more uncooperative.

He couldn’t feel his left leg anymore.

He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

He hadn’t…

He hadn’t thought that this was how it would end;

Tortured by humans who didn’t understand.

Who he was risking his life to protect.

Who didn’t _care_.

All they saw when they looked at him, even though he didn’t look it at all, was Galran.

Their tormentors. Their slavers. 

Should…

Should he have denied he was Galran?

Would they have believed him?

All they’d had was the shopkeeper claiming that of him and the fact Keith hadn’t disagreed.

That was apparently enough.

And…

And he wouldn’t have lied anyway.

He was _proud_ to be a Galran, proud to be Krolia’s son. 

That would never change.

Even if…

Even if he took that pride to the grave.

“Hey, hey,” a hand roughly patted his bloodied cheek and Keith was pulled from the almost welcome haze of nothingness, something curling in his stomach at this new development as the burned man swam into view. None had tried to speak to him, expected any sort of reaction except a scream.

What did this mean?

“Stay awake, Galran,” the man sneered, “I don’t want you to miss this next bit.”

Keith felt the intention before he saw it.

A wash of heat.

And looking at the man’s face it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

And…

And try as he might he could feel another heat, a burn seared into his face as cold, crimson eyes stared down, and the memory was as cold as it was hot.

“—a heat lamp,” the man said, dragging Keith back to the present and he was almost grateful. “Though I daresay the turtles liked it more than you’re gonna. Let’s give it a try and see how you like having half your face burned off.”

The lamp lowered.

Keith tried not to shake.

Tried not to close his eyes.

Reality was not as horrifying as his memories.

It touched his skin.

And Keith _screamed._

xxx

Keith wasn’t at the hovercraft.

Lance’s heart was back in his throat as to what that meant.

Keith would have known to stay there, not do something so stupid as to try and walk back to the Garrison in this heat and no communication and especially knowing Lance and Hunk would eventually come here when he didn’t meet them. 

Where was he?

The only clue they had was that security had been involved. Lance hadn’t even known the mall _had_ security or they’d have gone there first. It’s not like it was Varkon who probably had wanted posters of them all over his office. So that was where they were headed now.

The mall layout map in the entrance had been redrawn; giant pieces of black tape covering unused sections and really the only ones of applicable note were the food court, security and the front doors, but it was enough.

They didn’t quite run down the hallway that led to the security office but they definitely walked quickly. 

Keith had to be there.

He had to be.

If he wasn’t…

Lance’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

There was no way they’d survived all the had up in space for something to happen now. 

A posterboard propped up on an easel with an arrow halfway down the hall indicated where to turn for security and they entered the room.

No one was there.

The lights were on though and as Lance stepped up towards the front counter he heard voices from the room beyond.

Right before he called out though he paused.

He’d swear he’d just heard them say—

“—at the Galran too. This isn’t fair—”

He did.

They’d said Galran. 

Something cold settled in his stomach.

They didn’t mean Keith… did they?

He felt Hunk take a breath next to him and he reached up, clamping a hand over his mouth and giving a shake of his head.

No.

Something wasn’t right here.

He jerked his chin to the right where a swinging door separated the public from the back.

They were going to investigate themselves first.

Lance inched forward, Hunk practically on his heels.

The voices were louder now, belonging to two men, sitting at a folding table across from one another and not paying any attention to the door. They definitely _looked_ the part of security guards, dressed in kevlar and combat boots and one of them had a baton hooked on his belt, but there was something about them that made the hair on the back of Lance’s neck stand up.

There was something _dark_ about them and it wasn’t just from the scowls and the way one was leaning back, sharpening a knife.

Hunk let out a gulp that fortunately neither heard.

“You’ll get your shot,” the man sharpening the knife said, tone a direct contrast to the whinier one. “After,” sparks flew and illuminated a sharp grin, “I get mine. Gonna give that little bastard a matching scar.”

Lance’s breath hitched.

No.

They couldn’t mean…

The other man snorted. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure Klemin already fucked up his face. It’s not fair,” his voice turned back to a whine. “Why do they get to go first?”

Lance didn’t hear the response even though the man was sitting right there.

His pulse was roaring in his ears.

They were talking about Keith.

They were _hurting_ Keith.

_Why?_

He knew that answer.

He hated that he knew.

This was _wrong._

He was stepping into the room before he’d given his feet permission, ignoring the screams in the back of his mind that both men had _weapons_ and he had only his fists.

He didn’t care.

“Hey.”

His voice didn’t even sound like his own.

It was dark.

_Dangerous._

Both men jerked around.

“Hey, kid,” the one without the knife leaned forward. “This is—”

“Where’s Keith?”

The man frowned.

“Who?”

“Keith,” Lance repeated.

His hands shook at his sides, aware of Hunk joining him.

He’d never thought of Hunk’s size as threatening but _Dios,_ did he hope these men were thinking just that.

“Our friend. The,” his eyes narrowed, “Galran.”

There was a pause.

Then understanding…

And then _disgust._

They stood up, chairs _screeching_ at the action.

They were… a lot larger standing up.

Lance didn’t move, balling his fists.

“Where. Is. Keith?”

“Galra sympathizers?” the man with the knife spat. “As good as Galrans themselves. And the only good Galran…” he lifted his blade. “Is a dead one.” 

Lance raised his fists, trying to look stronger than he felt.

Hand to hand was not his strong suit but he wasn’t awful now although this guy had an easy hundred pounds on him plus the knife, but if he went in fast and dodged the first strike then maybe—

Hunk charged past him with a roar. 

Or that.

The man grinned, raising his knife higher. “C’mere fats—”

Hunk’s fist collided with the man’s face.

He went _flying_ backwards, crashing into the far wall and disappearing under an avalanche of monitor screens. 

Hunk was whirling before the other man could even free his baton from his belt and _shoved_ him backwards, the man stumbling with a yell.

A moment later Hunk _slammed_ him up against the wall.

It was over within ten seconds.

Lance admitted he was both awed, terrified, and a little faint.

“Where,” Hunk’s voice was low, his hands braced on the man’s shoulders and pinning him nearly a foot off the wall, “is our friend?”

The man said nothing.

But Lance could see it in the way his eyes darted about, the way he trembled.

He was scared.

Lance hated that he wasn’t upset by that.

“I said,” Hunk’s hands _squeezed_ and the man gave a moan, “where is our friend?”

He was upset though by this.

Hunk wasn’t violent, not like this.

And he could see that too. Hunk’s hands were trembling too, his breath coming in sharp pants.

This had to stop.

_Now._

“Tell us,” Lance stepped up next to Hunk, “and no one else has to get hurt.”

“Y-yeah?”

The man’s eyes darted back to where his fellow guard was.

He still hadn’t emerged.

“Tell us,” Lance demanded.

The man swallowed. His gaze landed on Hunk’s face and then Lance’s. His eyes widened, recognition flitting across his face.

“You’re… you’re _them._ The, the Paladins. The… the good guys.”

“We are,” Lance answered. He leaned forward. “And guess who else is too?”

The man paled.

At least Lance hadn’t had to spell it out.

“Start talking,” Lance ordered.

The man swallowed.

And nodded.

“They’re… they’re at the old pet shop…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying the fic please do take a moment to leave a comment with what you liked about it. What takes you **minutes** to read can take an author **hours** , if not **days, weeks** or even **months** to create. Please show your authors appreciation for all their hard work, free of any cost to you. It only takes a minute; share a favorite scene, a line of dialogue, a reaction… the possibilities on things to comment on are endless. Thank you to those who do so, it means a lot ♥ You guys are the reason I continue to still make myself post and I appreciate you more than words can say. Thank you ♥ (given how disheartening this week has been I'm bracing myself for more disappointment, but I'm very very much open to being pleasantly surprised.)
> 
> 💥 **(Like my works? Want to read even MORE? Visit my[Tumblr, icypantherwrites](https://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com)!)💥**  
> 


	4. Four

They put him in a cage. 

They…

They were going to take him away from here. Torture him more at someone’s house before they…

And if he went in there, if they took him away…

It was over.

His _only_ chance was somehow Lance and Hunk finding him. 

They wouldn’t be able to find him if he left the mall. 

And so Keith fought like he was possessed.

Body twisting, bound feet kicking, even headbutting although that had made his vision go white when the burns all over his left cheek made contact, as a battered, broken body protested and cried and screamed where he couldn’t.

It hadn’t mattered.

Laughing and jeering the men had forced him into the too small cage, dragging him forward on the leash fed through the cage bars, jamming his shoulders through the opening and then pressing his body up against itself — broken limbs and open wounds and God, it _hurt_ — to fit him in.

But for as much pain as he was in…

Something far worse was burning in his chest.

Shame.

He wasn’t a kid anymore, wasn’t being threatened by the system, wasn’t being told he’d better suck it up because the next family could be worse, things could always be worse.

And yet…

Yet here he was. Bound and helpless and hurt and alone and as much as he tried to ignore it, to push it away…

He was scared.

There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t fight his way out. Couldn’t talk, not that they would listen. They weren’t doing this because he’d done something to them, had spoken back and they hadn’t liked that.

They were doing this because of what he was.

Even Allura’s initial hate when his heritage had been discovered and how _small_ it had made him feel, to be hated for something he had no control over after he thought he was finally, _finally,_ finding his place, had never been like this.

Would…

Would they ever find his body?

A cold shiver went down his spine in contrast to the heat wafting across him from the back door of the pet store that opened to the outside, some sort of loading dock, where one of the men was backing a truck up.

And then…

Any minute now.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the hot tears trying to escape. 

No crying.

“Aww,” and the word, a sneer more than anything, was accompanied by a rattle of the cage that made Keith gasp as the collar tightened at the shifting. “You crying, Galran? You _scared?”_

Keith didn’t have any strength left to glare.

He was so… _tired_.

He wanted to give into the blackness dotting his vision to escape, but at the same time he couldn’t.

He was more afraid of the unknown, of waking up disoriented and confused, than whatever horror was there now. 

More hands landed on the cage, all four men gathering around to pick him up.

To load him into the truck.

And he could do _nothing._

“All right, on three,” one of the men said. “One…”

The grips shifted, the leash rattled against the bars.

Keith’s breath hitched as the collar drew tighter.

“Two…”

He could hear the truck rumbling.

One of the men grunted.

Someone else let out a low curse.

And…

He heard something else.

Footsteps?

His eyes widened.

Those were footsteps.

And they were coming _fast._

The humans couldn’t hear them though.

“Three.”

Keith’s stomach lurched with both hope and nausea as the cage was lifted.

He couldn’t see anything around the press of bodies, couldn’t turn his head towards the main door but…

But…

Was it…?

God, was it…?

The footsteps were _here._

And there was no mistaking the sound of a door _slamming_ open.

And even moreso…

“Keith!” came a scream of his name, two voices overlapping one another, panicked and scared but _strong_ and _safe._

Keith didn’t try to blink back the tears that time.

They were here.

Lance and Hunk.

They’d found him.

And then all hell broke loose.

Keith’s muffled cry as the men dropped his cage, body crashing against the bars, the floor, the roof, as the leash _choked_ him again, was swallowed up by the roar of screams and his stomach lurched again.

Hunk and Lance were here, but…

But how could they fight all four of those men?

He tried to turn his head, to catch a glimpse of the fight happening behind him, punctuated with screams and swears and crashes, but the leash held him fast and he gagged as it dug in deeper.

God.

God, what was happening?

If Lance and Hunk got hurt…

If they were _killed_...

It was all his fault.

Broken fingers twitched uselessly behind him and a whimper Keith hadn’t allowed himself yet to voice pulled at his throat.

God.

God, please.

They couldn’t…

He strained at his restraints, choking himself without care because they were in trouble, they—

“—eith!”

The cry was right behind his head.

It was so _loud._

Loud, because everything else had gone _quiet._

 _“_ Keith, stop, stop!”

Keith froze as Lance’s voice registered.

Lance.

“Oh God,” came Hunk’s moan. 

They were okay.

They’d…

They’d _saved_ him.

Lance’s face swam into view, crouched down in front of the cage, blood trickling down his hairline, cheek a red splotch and a giant rip torn down the front of his shirt, lip trembling and tears beginning to line his eyes.

“H-hang on,” his voice shook and long, slender fingers reached forward, digging into the knot of the leash. 

The cage door opened with a _screech_ behind him and Keith felt large, gentle hands land on his legs and then the harsher _snick_ of a rope being cut.

Keith felt his own eyes start to spill over.

God.

They’d...

A moment later the leash loosened and Lance fed it back through into the cage.

Hunk’s hands were pressing past his legs, wrapped about his waist and there was a tug.

Keith couldn’t help the moan pulled from him as they pressed against what had to be broken ribs and bleeding gashes even though he knew Hunk was being as careful as possible. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Just…”

The hands tightened and Keith _whimpered_ but he was being pulled backwards then, more hands on his legs and he faintly realized Lance had disappeared from view, and they guided him out of the cage, easing him over the high lip.

Hunk returned to cutting through the ropes holding his hands captive while Lance’s hands brushed tenderly through his hair, feeling out the latch to the muzzle.

A moment later Lance was guiding the wire mess from his face and Hunk was right behind and lifting the collar up and over his head, tossing it away with a mess of clinks.

Keith let out a shuddering, rasping breath and then another, focusing on feeling air slide down his raw throat.

“—bleeding pretty bad,” he heard Lance murmur and hands were sliding beneath his chest then and gently lifting him up, rotating him until he found himself cradled against Hunk, who like Lance looked to have been in a fight, split lip a neon beacon, but otherwise looked to be okay.

Thank God.

His gaze drifted past them, breath hitching at what was revealed.

All four men were lying on the ground, a mess of leashes and collars and rope tied all about their hands and feet and a giant cage on top of one of them.

Keith’s lips twitched up at the sight.

And then _pain_ as something pressed down _hard_ on his stomach and he choked on his next breath, aware of both Hunk and Lance apologizing behind the pulse roaring in his ears.

“—eith, hey,” a hand very, very lightly tapped his forehead and Keith opened his eyes, not sure when he’d closed them.

Lance and Hunk looked down at him, worry and fear clear.

“You, you with us, mullet?” Lance asked, clearly trying to muster up a smile, while Hunk’s lips were trembling.

Keith blinked.

Swallowed.

“Y-yeah,” he managed. 

His tongue didn’t seem to want to cooperate more than that but Hunk and Lance had both slumped with relief at even that reassurance.

“We’re gonna get you back to the Garrison, okay?” Lance said softly. 

Keith read between the lines.

They didn’t trust anyone here to help.

His chest ached.

“We’ll take care of you,” Hunk’s voice was a low, comforting rumble beneath Keith’s head. “Oh-okay?”

As tired as he was Keith felt his lips pull up into a small smile. “I… I know.”

He let his eyes slip closed then, Hunk and Lance’s voices a gentle background murmur and Hunk’s heartbeat and large arms all coming together to make him feel safe. 

It was a nice feeling.

The pain was barely even noticeable now.

“—take their truck, quicker than going out to the parking lot—”

“—just want to make sure they’re secured—”

“—press charges—”

“—think Allura can heal—?”

“—of course. She’ll find a way.”

There was silence, broken by soft footsteps padding about the room.

“I can’t,” Lance sounded a few moments later, “I can’t believe they… _Dios,_ Hunk, this…”

“I know,” came a breathy whisper above him. “I know.”

The silence returned, a wash of heat accompanied by the sound of a door closing. But Hunk didn’t react and so neither did Keith.

Except then...

The arms gave him a small squeeze. “Hey, Keith?” 

He gave a soft hum.

“You… you know we don’t care that you’re Galran, right? That, that you’re our friend no matter what?”

Keith forced his eyes open then, meeting Hunk’s tear-filled honey ones.

“I know,” he whispered again.

He knew that without a doubt. 

Hunk let out a sob and hugged him just a little tighter.

“Okay, bad guys are secure and truck is ready,” Lance popped back up next to Hunk. “Ready to go, mullet?”

And for as casual as the words were delivered Keith could see what lie beyond them, emphasized as Lance reached over and gave his shoulder a gentle pat followed by a squeeze, something far softer in Lance’s eyes than Keith was used to seeing directed at him.

He gave a nod, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat.

“All right then, up we go.”

Hunk, with Lance spotting and supporting, got to his feet, and other than an initial lurch and Hunk’s fingers digging into his back and legs it was a smooth transition. 

Lance had apparently prepped the back of the truck, several blankets decorated with paw prints and dog bones filling the space where before the men had intended to put a cage, and Hunk carefully went up the ramp and settled down.

“Closing the door,” Lance cautioned, standing outside the back of the truck. “It’s gonna get a little dark. We… we good?”

“Keith?” Hunk asked softly.

He nodded.

There was nothing to fear here.

“Twenty minutes,” Lance said by way of understanding. “Hunk, make sure to keep some pressure on that stomach wound. Keith,” his voice softened even more and ocean eyes sought out Keith’s in the darkened interior. “We’ll be home soon.”

Home.

Keith rolled it over in his mind.

The Galaxy Garrison itself wasn’t his home, not really.

But the people in it…

They were home.

And they loved him for _who_ he was, not _what_.

And… and he was _proud_ to be their friend.

Their…

Their family.

And they were proud of him.

And while he might never change the minds of others, might never find acceptance…

He found he didn’t care.

He was proud to be Galran.

He was proud to know he was doing the right thing.

He was proud to protect the universe, even if it meant protecting people like those men.

And above all…

He was proud to be a member of a family that loved and accepted him.

At the end of the day… that was all that truly mattered. 

And no matter what happened, no matter what was said or done to him…

He knew who he was.

He was Keith Kogane; half-human _and_ half-Galran.

And Keith was proud to be him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Edit:** Since apparently this keeps happening... you were not the author of this fic. You were not the commissioner. **_Please_ STOP **leaving comments of all the things you wanted this fic to have. It's rude and insulting to me and speaks volumes of how you are unappreciative for the fic you were just able to read, free of charge, that I worked very hard on and wrapped up how I and the commissioner chose it to end. Keep your wishlists and demands to yourself.
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, **please leave a comment** below detailing what you liked about it (and the small details make my day!). Fanfiction is meant to be engaged with. _**Please, please, please**_ don’t just be a page hit or a kudo or a bookmark. Instead be an engaged, appreciative reader and leave a comment to show said appreciation and give the author a little love for sharing their work. Thank you so much to those who do. I truly appreciate your support ♥
> 
> 💥 **(Like my works? Want to read even MORE? Visit my[Tumblr, icypantherwrites](https://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com)!)💥**  
> 


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